


Aftermath

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: Murder and Consequences [2]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:03:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7949089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes more than a shower to wash away that blood, they all know that. Doesn’t stop them from trying, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe I let you assholes bully me into continuing this aaaaaaaaaaugh. Pay me back, give me fan art or something I mean, oh man. You all beat me down with the goddamn peer pressure.

As soon as Jason and Damian were gone, Dick sent out a distress signal. And just like he’d told his brother, it was only minutes, probably even just seconds, before he heard the patter of heavy bootsteps approaching the warehouse opening.

He didn’t look up when he heard Tim and Bruce stop, though. Just stood where Damian had, the bloody sword heavy in his hand, staring at the Joker’s dead body.

…The Joker’s _dead body._

He heard Tim gasp, as he and their father came further into the warehouse. Knew Bruce was steeling his own reaction, that he wouldn’t make a peep, wouldn’t actually _react_ until they were back in the safety of their dark, cold cave.

Tim practically ran at the body. Stood over it, already mentally gathering evidence. Looked up at the blood spatter on the boxes and walls before turning back to Dick, eyes practically bulging out of his mask.

“What the he-”

Bruce stepped up beside Dick – and he knew. Dick knew he did. He was quicker than Tim, had already catalogued the bloody footprints leaving the warehouse, the large size of them. Knew the sword in Dick’s hand wasn’t his, but belonged in their family. Belonged to the _youngest_ in their family.

He cut Tim off with a low, calm voice. “What happened.”

Dick could only grimace, flash the mockery of a smile across his lips as the dead weight shifted naturally, and the Joker’s body slumped to the side at Tim’s feet, with his near-severed head flopping under, and getting trapped beneath, his armpit in the process.

“…The worst thing imaginable.”

~~

It’d been four hours, and Damian still hadn’t spoken. His eyes were half-lidded, still four continents away.

The blood covering him was turning a disgusting brown, and starting to smell. Jason felt a little bad – he hadn’t thought to grab towels when he broke into Dick’s apartment for the car keys, and the car’s interior was pretty much destroyed.

The shaking had stopped when they reached Dick’s apartment. Damian must have felt comfortable there, sensed where they were, and Jason had half a mind to stay there, despite Dick’s commands.

But then Damian just went limp. Pliant to however Jason moved him, and that was scary.

His phone was blowing up. Roy, Alfred, Tim, Barbara. No doubt word had spread around the family now. Roy probably didn’t know – was just calling because Jason hadn’t answered a single text or phone call all night, and his friend tended to worry.  

Jason sighed as they reached an exit and he took it. Only a few more miles to Central City, where he, Roy and Kory had a small safehouse that not many knew about. Not even the Oracle.

They began to pass through red lights and stop signs. Drive by gas stations and fast food joints. Ended up in the suburbs, along the streets between the college rentals and the local families.

Jason pulled the car into an apartment complex that was a little mix of both students and adults. Quiet, relatively safe, where neighbors don’t talk and no one asks questions. He pulled in, in front of a dark unit on the end of the last building. In a tiny, unassuming corner where no one would look for them.

He shut off the car and let out a deep exhale, before pushing the driver door open, grabbing his phone from the cup holder and stepping out.

He glanced around the lot as he moved around the car. It was late, and there weren’t even lights on behind any blinds. He heard a cop car in the far distance, the electric zing of the Flash not far behind them, and smiled as he opened Damian’s door. Damian didn’t move to get out, or move at all, so gently, Jason crouched next to him.

The kid was a mess.

“…Are you tired?” Jason asked carefully. “Or hungry?”

“…N-n…” Damian wheezed. “…No.”

“Okay.” Jason hummed, standing just enough to lean into the car, and hook his hands under Damian’s arms. Damian just let Jason take his weight, let him lean Damian against his chest, and hold him like a sleeping baby.

As soon as Damian was secure in his arms, Jason slammed the car door, took one last look around the complex and moved towards the apartment’s door.

Roy had tricked out that door. Opened with a thumbprint on the doorknob instead of a key. So when he touched it, he heard the snap of a heavy-duty lock and pushed the door open.

After the door closed behind them, Jason just stood in the small living room, listening to Damian’s breathing, and the pounding of his own heart.

“…Right.” He sighed, after a second. “First thing’s first, kid. A bath.”

Damian stirred, just slightly, when Jason kicked the bathroom door in.

“Okay, so first we’ll need to…” Jason thought out loud, looking around. Towels were ready, and he could see soap and shampoo sitting on the ledges of the tub. So, really, all he needed to do was strip the kid down and shove him in the bathtub. But when he looked down at Damian, he realized he couldn’t even see the Robin uniform. Just the blood. The blood from some madman who had tortured everyone in their family for their whole lives. “…You know what? We’re just going in like this.”

He still held Damian against his hip as he leaned in, and pushed the knob to turn on the water. Along with deciding that this was going to be an all-out cleanse, body, clothes and all, he decided it wasn’t going to be a bath either. Just a real hot shower.

“Do you think you can stand?” Jason glanced down at the boy slumped against his neck. Damian just gently nodded. “Okay. We’ll try standing.”

Jason, who’d stripped the blood-soaked gloves off at Dick’s loft, fiddled with the water temperature for a few minutes. As soon as it was acceptable, he flipped the handle, waiting for a stream of water to burst out of the showerhead.  As soon as it did, he grunted, pulling Damian off his chest. “Now it’s going to be hot, okay?”

And it was a little worrying, that Damian didn’t even flinch when Jason plopped him down beneath the scolding water. Only blinked as water trailed down his face, flattening his hair. The blood was already mixing with the water, creating red tear tracks down the kid’s face.

It was… _spooky_.

Jason sat on the edge of the bathtub for a minute. Testing the water every so often, just to make sure it wasn’t too hot – he had a feeling the kid wouldn’t say anything if it was. He grabbed a washcloth at one point, scrubbing it up with soap before gently running it across Damian’s face. After a few passes, he slung the cloth over his shoulder, and reached up to softly pull the green domino mask from Robin’s face. As soon as it was free, Jason picked up the washcloth, and wiped Damian’s face a few more times.

“You doing okay in there?” Jason asked, cleaning up one last smear of blood right underneath Damian’s left eye.

Damian inclined his head, just once.

“Yeah, okay.” Jason snorted, dropping the bloodied washcloth to the bottom of the tub. He glanced down Damian’s body – the hot water alone had done wonders. Not perfect, this specific Robin uniform was trash regardless, but at least you could see the stoplight colors again, however distorted. And that reminded him. “…Think you’ll be okay here by yourself for a few minutes?”

Damian didn’t respond.

“Okay, that’s fine.” Jason nodded, running his fingers through Damian’s hair as he stood. More blood flaked free, and Jason made a note to actually wash the kid’s hair before this little swim was done. “If you think you can’t stand anymore, just sit down, that’s fine. If you don’t want to be in the water anymore, just get out and sit on this rug. If you need anything at all, you give me a shout. I’ll just be in the other room, okay?”

Damian just swayed a little bit.

“Gotta give me something, kiddo.” Jason prodded, reaching out absently, and unhooking the heavy cape, pulling it away from Damian and tossing it to the far side of the tub, where the mask also was. “Just a nod or something.”

Damian hesitated, then gave a quick nod.

“Okay.” Jason said quickly. “Be right back. Five minutes.”

He walked out of the room, and immediately, his own bloody clothes felt heavy, and suffocating. He ripped the jacket from his shoulders, tossing it into the nearby kitchen trashcan. His shirt quickly followed the same path.

He stomped into the safehouse’s single bedroom, and looked between the dresser and closet. He and the Outlaws kept clothes here, just as they did in every safehouse, and debated which area to raid first, or what clothes would even work.

He moved to the dresser, and yanked open the top drawer. But before he could dig through the shirts, he glanced up, on habit, into the mirror that sat above the drawers.

There were bags under his eyes, and a mixture of dirt and blood across his cheeks, neck and arms, from where he carried Damian. He was sweaty, and his eyes were almost as far away as Damian’s. And he realized then – that he looked about half as bad as the kid.

He sighed, and leaned his elbows on the dresser, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

He was rattled – he wasn’t too scared to admit that. He was just as rattled as Damian was, that the Joker was dead. That Damian was the one who killed him.

_That Damian killed the Joker for him._

He took a few shaky breaths, knew he couldn’t stay stuck in his own brain, not when there was already a traumatized kid drowning in his shower. Knew this was his fault, because he was the one the Joker had originally hurt, because he was the one who preached and ranted every day about how he wanted the Joker dead, because he brought up his own violent death to his family members every chance he could get, so he had to own this. He had to take responsibility for Damian, and for his state right now. Help him any way he possibly could-

-but before he could move to do any of that, he felt his phone buzz in his back pocket.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he stood back to his full height and pulled the phone out. If it was anyone else, he wasn’t going to answer, but it was who he was waiting for, and he’d never been more grateful for that asshole.

“Yeah.” He muttered as a greeting. He knew, in the back of his head, there was a huge chance someone had taken his phone, hacked the connection. No doubt Dick had already warned their father that he’d instructed Jason to talk to no one but him, or that Dick wouldn’t let Jason talk to anyone _but_ him, so they could try to intercept the call. Best not give too much away until he was sure.

“You’re in Central, right?” That was Dick alright, still sounding as in-control as he was in the warehouse, though maybe a tiny bit frantic. “I had a tracker on my car. Bruce and Babs don’t know about it.”

“Yeah.” Jason repeated, looking back into the drawer at the clothes. He pulled out a shirt for himself, then went to the next drawer for some sweatpants. “You on your way already?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to make sure.” Dick sighed, sounding like it was in relief. “…How’s he doing?”

“About as well as before.” Jason mumbled, pulling out another pair of sweatpants and frowning. None of his or Roy’s clothes were going to fit this kid. He threw the sweatpants back in the drawer, and pulled out a pair of boxers instead – them and their elastic waistband would have to do for now. “He stopped shaking, at least.”

“Progress, I guess.” Dick hummed. “Try to get him to sleep some. You too, Jay. Both of you get some sleep. I should be there by dawn, if I speed.”

“Yeah.” Jason said for a third time. “Yeah…we’ll try.”

“…He’s not mad, Jason.” Dick whispered, almost inaudible over the sound of wind around his car. “Not at the two of you.”

Jason paused. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be coming out here. You’d be calling to say we can come home.”

“He…is coping.” Dick tried. “He needs some time. I’m _forcing_ him to take some time, in case he’s lying to me.”

“He’s disappointed.” Jason murmured, turning towards the closet. He pulled the door open, and began searching through the hangers. “I can’t imagine he wouldn’t be.”

“I think he’s more surprised, and is trying to deal with it.” Dick returned. “When I told him what happened, his first worry was you.”

“Not Damian?”

“Both of you, I mean.” Dick corrected. “Don’t nit-pick him now, Jason, okay? Just…get Damian settled away and I’ll see you both in the morning.”

“…Alright.” Jason sighed. “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

He hung up without another word, knew Dick was in the process of doing the exact same. As he tossed the phone back onto the bed, he chose a shirt from the closet and tore it from its hanger.

He’d apologize to Kory later.

Quickly, he changed into his own fresh clothes, grabbed the ones he’d chosen for Damian, and headed back to the bathroom, making a quick detour to the living room’s coffee table to drop his guns there.

Damian was, surprisingly, honestly, still standing. The only movement it seems he had taken was to hold his hands out in front of himself to stare at them.

Jason tossed the clothes into the sink, and went back to his perch on the side of the bathtub.

“I got you some fresh clothes.” He said softly. “It’s all going to be too big for you, but they’ll do for now. …Do you want to do me a favor?”

Damian’s eyes slowly rose from his hands.

“I’m gonna wash your hair, just to get the rest of the blood out of it.” Jason explained. “Do you want to finish getting out of that uniform in the meantime? Does that sound good?”

Damian just stared. Blinked twice, and then slowly moved his hands, and began pulling his gloves off. Jason took that as acquiesce enough, and reached for the shampoo.

For the next twenty minutes, Jason washed Damian’s hair while Damian slowly removed the bloody armour. When they were both finished, Jason gave Damian a new washcloth and soap, and left him to finish cleaning off the last few hours, while he found the kid a towel.

When Damian was finished, Jason shut off the water, and immediately wrapped the kid in the towel. After helping Damian dry off a little, he lifted him out of the bathtub – now stained with that blood and dirt – and sat him on the toilet.

“Do you want me to help you get dressed or you want a few minutes?”

Damian blinked from his towel cocoon. “…F-few…minutes…”

“Okay.” Jason nodded, standing up. “I’ll close the door to give you some privacy. Shout if you need something, otherwise I’ll see you out in the living room. Alright?”

Damian nodded. Twice this time, quickly, like life was coming back into him.

“Cool.” Jason returned, stepping out of the room and into the living room. He gave another sigh, and turned towards the tiny kitchen.

He and his friends didn’t keep much in the way of food on hand. A couple non-perishables, soups and pasta. A couple bags of chips, maybe some cookies. He saw some packs of pudding, and shrugged. They both needed to eat, and this was as good and simple as anything.

He was just pulling the snacks down when he heard the bathroom door reopen. He turned immediately, and found Damian standing there, hand on the wall like it was holding him up. He was swimming in the clothes, just as Jason knew he would. Kory’s shirt, despite her being smaller than himself and Roy, was still too loose, and a little too long, and hung off his shoulder. The boxers went past his knees.

Jason left the pudding on the counter, and went across the room to the sofa, where a blanket was draped across the back of it. He grabbed it and spread it out as he approached Damian, and wrapped it snuggly around his shoulders. Damian grasped the corners of the blanket greedily, like if he let go, his whole world would fall apart.

And maybe it would.

Jason doesn’t know why he scooped the kid back up into his arms, but Damian came just as willingly as before. Clung to the blanket as he curled into Jason’s chest. Jason turned back towards the kitchen, and picked up the two snacks still sitting there.

“Want to go into the bedroom or stay out on the sofa?” Jason hummed into Damian’s hair. Damian didn’t answer. “…Well, I could watch some TV, so let’s stay out here.”

He walked back to the sofa, dropped the food onto the coffee table next to the guns, and flopped back onto couch, stretching his legs out along the cushions. He kept Damian snug against his chest, let him use his torso as a bed as he reached for the remote, and turned on the tiny TV in the corner.

“…Do you want to eat?” Jason asked quietly. Damian shook his head, and hid his face against Jason’s collarbone. “Okay. That’s fine. How about you sleep for me instead?”

Damian didn’t answer, so Jason took that as a yes.

“…Dickie will be here in a few hours.” Jason whispered, running his hand comfortingly across Damian’s spine. “…Everything will be okay, Damian.”

Damian didn’t say anything, but Jason felt him turn his head towards the TV.

~~

Jason doesn’t know how long it took him to drift off, or how long he was asleep. He doesn’t know when Damian fell asleep, or if he ever did.

All he knew was he was woken up by a kid jerking away from his chest, and kneeing him in the groin in a scramble to stand up.

He groaned and curled in on himself, though could faintly hear the jiggle of a doorknob. When he was finally able to look up, he saw that Damian had backed himself into the corner, was watching the front door with wide eyes, still wrapped in that blanket.

“It’s okay.” Jason wheezed. “It’s okay, it’s probably just-”

The front door opened.

“-Dick.” Jason finished, as the man in question stepped in and closed the door. Damian relaxed instantly, and slumped against the wall, even as Dick came across the room.

“Sorry I’m late.” Dick grinned, holding up a fast food bag. He was no longer in his Nightwing uniform. Just jeans, shirt and a jacket. “I brought some breakfast?”

“…With hashbrowns?” Jason asked suspiciously, sitting back on the sofa.

“I ordered extra hashbrowns, Jay. Just for you.” Dick promised.

“Lifesaver.” Jason breathed, as Dick handed him the bag. “And here me and the kid were just going to survive on _pudding_.”

Dick snorted a soft laugh as he continued across the room, to where Damian was still cowering against the wall. He approached slowly, crouching in front of the child when he was close enough.

Damian’s eyes were still wide, and starting to water as he stared down at Dick. “I.” He tried, voice still hoarse from its disuse. “…I’m sorry.”

Dick kept his smile as he leaned forward and took Damian into his arms. Damian practically collapsed into the embrace, and if Jason thought he’d been clingy before, it was nothing compared to now, as Damian hid his face in Dick’s neck and _sobbed_.

“It’s okay.” Dick cooed, running his hand over the back of Damian’s head. “Everything’s going to be okay, Damian. I promise. You’re fine. You’re alright.”

And Jason waited a moment. Finished his bite of food before asking: “…So?”

Dick, keeping Damian firm in his arms, glanced over.

“What do we do now?”

Dick just smiled.

And it was so sad.

**Author's Note:**

> [More Murder And Consequences things. ](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/tagged/murder-and-consequences)


End file.
